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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26864602">the million shapes of the truth</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/leocantus/pseuds/leocantus'>leocantus</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>take my hand we’ll dive into the sea [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Persona 5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Age Difference, Crossdressing, Id Fic, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Mirror Sex, Smut, getting closer and closer to that PWP tag...!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 18:28:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,328</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26864602</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/leocantus/pseuds/leocantus</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>sidestories to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26405752">as my heart bursts in the night (hold my hand)</a> / <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26713948">when the lights go out (give me something to believe in)</a></p><p>1. the trials and tribulations of dating someone not actually old enough to drink | E<br/>2. impulse control? i don't know her | E</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Amamiya Ren/Iwai Munehisa, Iwai Munehisa/Kurusu Akira, Iwai Munehisa/Persona 5 Protagonist</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>take my hand we’ll dive into the sea [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1944112</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>93</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. burned into the inside of my skin</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><tt>Just got off the train, be out soon!</tt> ヽ(*⌒▽⌒*)ﾉ</p>
<p>Munehisa snorts out a laugh, stowing his phone back into his pocket. Nothing makes him feel so old as when he's texting Akira, which, knowing him, is precisely why he texts the way he does. </p>
<p>Brat. </p>
<p>But it’s one thing he’s not willing to walk back from. Things will end up however the hell they want to end up; Munehisa just has to make sure he has no regrets. </p>
<p>A couple more minutes and still no Akira, but he doesn't get worried when he doesn't immediately appear, knowing how busy Shibuya station gets and how much trouble Akira manages to attract. And anyway, it’s not like he’s <em>late</em> or anything; in the safe confines of his head, Munehisa will admit to himself that despite knowing precisely what’s in store for him today he’s just impatient. He shifts his lollipop over to the other side of his mouth and fishes out his phone again to pass the time, keeping half his attention on his surroundings and the other half on saving his <em>kyodai</em> from their dumbass decision-making skills. Mostly because they know he has a date today and they think they'll be able to get away with it. </p>
<p>At least, Akira calls it a date. But spending the day in Shibuya shopping is not really Munehisa’s idea of one, based on his somewhat limited experience. It seems more like something Akira would do with his school friends, but Munehisa knows the value of sacrifice so he’d said yes anyway. If it makes Akira happy to have Munehisa here with him instead of them then so be it. </p>
<p>He dumps the lollipop stick into the nearest bin and is just about to pull out a replacement when there’s a faint prickling at the back of his neck. It has him turning around before whoever it is trying to sneak up on him succeeds and it's—</p>
<p>Oh. </p>
<p>“Ren-chan,” he says, blindly locking his phone and putting it away once more. She must have finally learned to do her makeup herself, he thinks as he takes her in, mostly because there’s no way Lala-chan got out of bed before midday on a weekend. Munehisa stares — somewhat dumbly, he’ll admit — for a couple of beats longer and she blinks long lashes up at him, coy look ruined by the self-satisfied smirk on her dark lips.</p>
<p><em>Brat</em>.</p>
<p>He takes her in in flashes: thigh highs, mini skirt, bare shoulders, wide choker, and what he knows about fashion wouldn’t be enough to fill a shot glass, but she looks cute like this. More than cute. Munehisa has to remind himself they’re in public when he slides his arms around her, ducking down for a kiss hello. He gets her cheek instead, her turning her head just at the last moment and Munehisa rolls his eyes.</p>
<p>“Lipstick,” she says cheerily, slipping out of his arms to grab his hand and head for the crossing. Munehisa stares at where her fingers — slender, nails cut short like always — wrap around his, only just peeking out from under the long sleeves of her jumper. Munehisa has seen her knock someone out flat with those hands but like this they look so delicate. Munehisa wonders why he’s so caught up on that.</p>
<p>“Sorry, Munehisa,” she says as they’re waiting for the light to change, jolting him out of his thoughts. “I didn’t mean to keep you waiting.” She says it like there’s some kind of joke he’s not privy to, meanings layered over each other in each word, but Munehisa’s coming to understand that that’s just how she is. Sometimes it’s defensive, other times offensive, and a surprising amount of time it’s the truth, carefully tailored to get the outcome she wants. Learned behaviour, but it was very much her against the world for the longest time so he can’t fault her, not really. </p>
<p>Besides, though she likes to play games, she doesn’t play them with him, not anymore. Not where it counts. When she’s like this with him it’s like she’s doing her best to invite him in, and Munehisa is getting progressively worse and worse about telling her no.</p>
<p>“Yeah? Did you have to say goodbye to your other boyfriend first?” He loops his arm over her head and across her shoulders, still holding her hand, and she leans into his side like they practised it earlier. Like this, the sweet scent of her perfume hits him and Munehisa fights the urge to bury his face in the curve of her neck to chase it.</p>
<p>“Don’t be jealous, Munehisa. You know you’re my favourite, right?”</p>
<p>Ren-chan’s yelp as Munehisa pinches her side is fortunately covered by the sound of the crossing, and she shoots him a wounded look as they make their way over to 109.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Seeing as how he’s knocking down the door of 40, Munehisa has never stepped foot in 109 despite having lived in Shibuya for years, and after a mere five minutes of being there, he hopes to never have to again. It’s Shibuya station busy, but with nowhere near as much room. Munehisa slouches on behind Ren-chan as she weaves her way through the crowd, movements sure despite the fact that she seems to be merely browsing. </p>
<p>It skews young in here, which is expected, and something like that might have the power to make him self-conscious if he was one to put a lot of stock in what other people think. But starting at ‘being Yakuza’ and moving down to ‘fucking university students’, that ship sailed a long time ago.</p>
<p>After five more minutes he shrugs off his jacket and ties it around his hips, retrieving another lollipop while he’s at it and popping it in with a sigh. They’re well into spring now, winter a long distant memory, and the number of people in here has jacked up the temperature even more. His tattoos are on show, short sleeves baring both arms, but the roiling crowd works in his favour and the only one shooting him a look — appreciative, he’s come to understand — is Ren-chan.</p>
<p>He follows her into a little boutique on the first floor, where evidently it meets some kind of criteria that completely escapes him, and props up a wall while she beelines straight for the dresses at the back.</p>
<p>He rolls his lollipop around in his mouth, watching her. Usually it’s Akira when they go out together; Ren-chan is generally reserved for nights as Crossroads and lounging around his apartment. He’s wondered briefly whether it’s because Akira thought he couldn’t, but she looks as comfortable here as he always does. He’d asked Akira once whether he preferred one name over another, but he’d merely said that Ren-chan is Ren-chan and Akira is Akira and well, that’s that.</p>
<p>(And when Akira had asked him if he preferred one or the other, his answer had been the same.)</p>
<p>“Munehisa, you’re supposed to be spending the day <em>with</em> me.”</p>
<p>Munehisa rolls his eyes but gives into the inevitable, allowing himself to be tugged around as she gathers a handful of clothing and then asks an attendant to try them on. And they’re not particularly revealing or sexy, but all he can think of when she models them for him is what it might be like to undress her. Slip them off her shoulders or push his hands under the skirt, put his mouth to the miles of bared skin and leave enough marks to tide him over until next time. He wonders if it’s written all over his face; it’s not as though the feedback he’s giving is especially inspired.</p>
<p>And that’s how it goes for the next couple of shops, Munehisa idly stripping her out of every outfit she tries on even as he tries to be an attentive partner. He’s not sure how well he’s succeeding, though Ren-chan’s not complaining, but there is a truly staggering number of stores in 109 and it’s only going to get worse as the day goes on. </p>
<p>He hands over his card, like he’s been doing more often than not since they entered this awful place — like he said, not very good at saying no to her — and adds the bag to the truly staggering amount of bags already on his arm. He’s not sure why he’s so preoccupied with her. He always wants her and that’s no secret, but usually he has a better handle on it. Maybe it’s because there’s something uncomplicated and kind of pure about her like this. It makes that caveman part of him want to mess her up. Ruin her a little.</p>
<p>She also, god forbid, looks  more her age like this but, well, he knew what he was getting into. Like he said: not really willing or able walk it back now. </p>
<p>Although...</p>
<p>“Is this your father?” one sales assistant asks as he hands over his card. “You’re so lucky to have him with you today.”</p>
<p>Munehisa keeps a straight face only through the grace of the gods. Even more so when Ren-chan smiles, trouble in every inch of it, and says, “Munehisa-oji-chan is treating me for doing so well on my exams.”</p>
<p>
  <em>Oji-chan?</em>
</p>
<p>“Brat,” he says, pinching her again as they exit the shop. Ren-chan hooks her arm through his and laughs.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Eventually, they break for lunch. They exit 109 for a much needed breath of fresh air, and Ren-chan leads him to an okonomiyaki restaurant across the road. By this point, Munehisa has enough bags of clothes to open up his own shop, but from the way Ren-chan talks, they’re still only halfway done.</p>
<p>He sinks into his seat gratefully after they’re led to their table, setting the bags on the floor beneath it. He’d had to cover up his tattoos just to get in here so his jacket is back on, but Ren-chan eagerly discards hers as she perches on the seat across from him, looking bright and perky — like she’s only just stepped out of the house — and undeniably gorgeous. </p>
<p>“Don’t think I mentioned it, but you look real nice today.”</p>
<p>Ren-chan’s cheeks pink a little but she looks more amused than anything. “Nice try, Munehisa.”</p>
<p>Munehisa laughs. “Can’t believe you do this kind of thing on a regular basis.”</p>
<p>Ren-chan gives a guileless kind of smile that Munehisa doesn’t trust for one second. “You’ve held up pretty well for someone of your age.”</p>
<p>Munehisa doesn’t say anything, just looks at her, because if she’s concerned about his stamina then he’s more than happy to dispel any doubts for her now, and Ren-chan inhales sharply, <em>squirming</em> under his gaze. Maybe she’s remembering their last sleep over. Maybe she’s thinking about the possibilities of tonight — Munehisa definitely is, a lot less idly than he was before.</p>
<p>And then she exhales, seemingly shaking it off, and says once more, “Nice try, Munehisa,” knocking her foot against his.</p>
<p>He laughs again, just as the waiter appears, and they order their drinks and agree to share some monjayaki. They talk while they wait for it to arrive — or at least Ren-chan does and Munehisa listens. Most of what he’s been up to lately would get him put away for a long time if the wrong person overheard, and besides the way Ren-chan talks about her friends and classmates like she’s a wildlife biologist studying animal behaviour will always be funny.</p>
<p>“You do realise he wants to fuck you, right?” he says, as their monjayaki sizzles away on the grill between them.</p>
<p>Ren-chan shoots him a withering look. “Obviously.” She leans over as she speaks, mixing the food together until it’s less of a liquid and more like melted cheese. “But he knows I’m not available,” she continues, happily reaching for a mini spatula to taste.</p>
<p>“You told him about me?” he asks, not that he thinks Ren-chan is ashamed of him — not that he thinks Ren-chan <em>does</em> shame — but she’s also a pretty private person generally.</p>
<p>Ren-chan hums in pleasure as she her tongue darts out, licking up the dripping parts before sucking the spatula into her mouth. “Can’t have anyone thinking I’m anything but yours,” she says around it, muffled.</p>
<p>“No,” Munehisa says, heavy-lidded gaze on her, “can’t have that.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>All too soon the break is over though, and they’re back across the road to check out the rest of 109. The crowds are as relentless as they were before lunch but still Ren-chan manages to find a way through. And with her arm looped through his, Munehisa gets towed along next to her. This close, the scent of her perfume teases him again, and Munehisa fishes out a lollipop, unwrapping it and popping it in his mouth with his free hand to stave off the craving while they resume shopping precisely where they left off.</p>
<p>She seems to want to stay close now, or at least closer. Munehisa has spent large portions of his life cut off from the rest of the world. Or rather, cutting the rest of the world off from him, an island of solitude. With her now he resents the space between them; close is never close enough for him. Maybe, as he was teaching her how to lower her defences, she was sneaking her way past his. It’s kind of funny any way you slice it; no wonder Lala-chan is always laughing at him. </p>
<p>Ren-chan wraps herself around his arm, weighted gaze blinking up at him, body fitting to the negative spaces of his, and it’s a game even as it’s not, some kernel of truth to the teasing. Layers again. Munehisa crunches through his lollipop to stop himself from backing her into the wall for a kiss.</p>
<p>Not that he thinks he’s hiding it from her. She pats his chest as he hands over his card again and says, “Not too long now, Munehisa. You’re doing very well.”</p>
<p>And they are starting to slow down now. Though he can’t tell whether it’s because she’s starting to flag or whether it’s because she wants to take her time with these last couple of stores. They seem classier than the others: wide open spaces and clean lines, warm lights and attentive sales assistants, all with the price tags to match. Ren-chan steps inside and a sales assistant is with her instantly, walking her through the store as Ren-chan describes what she’s looking for. They end up with what looks like half the store by the time they make it to the changing rooms, and Munehisa shuffles over to one of the seats nearby, presumably placed so that people like him can serve their purpose holding bags and giving second opinions.</p>
<p>The sales assistant hurries off to deal with the customers just entering the store. Munehisa sits back to wait, and through the sliver of space between the curtain and the wall, he can see her, her back to him as she bends over to roll down her socks and—</p>
<p>Munehisa is out of his seat and into the cubicle in a second.</p>
<p>She straightens up immediately, half turning to meet him, but he gets his hands on her first, arms wrapped tight around her and pulled in close.</p>
<p>“Shh,” he says in her ear, holding her taut against him, hand over her mouth. She's trembling — from the thrill or the anticipation, it all leads to the same end — hands braced against the wall, so Munehisa takes that moment to touch the way he's been wanting to all day. She makes a high, muffled sound as his hand slips beneath her top, skin to skin, sliding up the flat plane of her stomach to her cute little tits. Sensitive, like always, she squirms in his hold, head arching back, body twisting away and then towards his hand as it plays with her nipples. She makes another high sound, and Munehisa wonders if he can get her to come like this, but then she grinds her ass back into his dick — either by design, or just pure, needy chance — and Munehisa knows a good idea when he hears one. </p>
<p>“Can I trust you to be quiet?” he asks, and she nods frantically, eyes squeezed shut, so Munehisa removes his hand from her mouth, and slides his hand free from her top, dropping both to her hips and then down to her ass to flip up her skirt. He presses a hand firmly to her back for a second, and she bends over further immediately, back arching, chest pressed to the wall. Munehisa gives a pleased hum, and not even the hand stuffed hastily into her mouth is enough to hide her whimper. </p>
<p>Her underwear is cute enough, something soft and red with a little bow on the back. Munehisa only notes this in passing, much more interested in what's underneath, and slides those down and—</p>
<p>There's something just between her cheeks, a little loop of material, and there's a moment of dissociation as Munehisa reaches for it, as though he's watching himself to do from afar. He grabs it and tugs on it, just a little, and Ren-chan makes a distressed, urgent sound into her arm, trembling increasing. </p>
<p>Munehisa slams back into his body like a meteorite making landfall, suddenly, achingly, turned on.</p>
<p>“Good girl,” he whispers, and the hot, tortured sound she makes in response is just fuel for the fire. “I knew you were planning something,” he says, idly playing with whatever the hell it is she has in her, fucking her shallowly with it. His dick is a dense ache between his thighs, need slowly eclipsing all else, but the way she fights to stay quiet even though they both know that once she gets something inside her she can't help it is unbelievably hot.</p>
<p>“You're predictable,” she says, but her voice shakes as she does. “I knew you wouldn't be able to resist, Munehisa.” </p>
<p>“I suppose you're right,” he says. He pulls it out all the way and she sinks her teeth into her hand as he does, hips hitching back towards him as though desperate to keep it in place. He sets it to one side, balancing it on her bags for later. It glistens in the low light of the changing room, and even knowing that she’s stretched and wet already he slips two fingers into her ass to check.</p>
<p>“Was this why you were late?” he whispers, crooking his fingers inside her for the way it makes her legs shake. “Stretching yourself out in the toilets at the station? Did you come?” he asks, though he knows the answer to that one already.</p>
<p>And sure enough she shakes her head, panting quietly between quiet whimpers as he thrusts his fingers in and out of her. “It’s your reward,” she says, though it takes her a moment, “f-for today, for being so— being so— Munehisa, please, I <em>need</em> you to—” </p>
<p>Her voice starts to rise and Munehisa cups his hand over it again, whispering, “Shh,” in her ear while he pulls his fingers free to undo his jeans. Fishing out his cock is a relief; Munehisa doesn’t bother with any more teasing and puts the head at her hole and <em>pushes</em>.</p>
<p>It’s a good thing he still has his hand over her mouth. She shrieks as the head pops past the rim, and he wonders if, for how aggressive she was back when they first met, he was the first one to touch her like this because she’s just so deliciously sensitive. Maybe it’s just him, and he’s the only one who knows how to touch her right. A large part of him really likes that idea.</p>
<p>He slides the rest of the way in, slick and easy, and now it’s his turn to bury his face, mouth pressed to her shoulder to keep from groaning at how tight she still is. The scent of her is so sweet it’s heady, addictive, and something aggressive — possessive — bubbles up inside him. Munehisa wants to bite her and so he does, sinking his teeth into the soft skin of her neck, just under her choker, enjoying the way she jerks and tightens around his dick; a meagre outlet for the fervent need to be close to her that’s been rising like a tsunami inside him all day. </p>
<p>“Been thinking about this all day.” He sucks at the bite, turns it into a little mark of ownership, and as she squirms like she squirmed in the restaurant earlier he realises that she sat there across from him, cool as anything with that toy big and thick inside her, and has to claw back his control by his fingertips. His voice is ragged when he says, “Every time you showed off for me in a cute little outfit I thought about stripping you out of it.”</p>
<p>But she’s not unaffected either. She shoves back onto his cock, a clear <em>get a move on</em> if he ever heard one and so Munehisa does, pulling out and thrusting back in fast, not able to take his time with her, but also not particularly willing at this point to even try for something slow. </p>
<p>“Bet you’ve been thinking about it too,” he says by her ear. He slips his other hand under her skirt and cups her dick through the panties before pulling it out and wrapping his hand around it. “You’re so wound up, Ren-chan. Your other boyfriend not taking care of you?”</p>
<p>She’s shaking her head, eyes squeezed shut, but with his hand over her mouth all she can do is listen so Munehisa takes advantage of that. He twists the hand around her dick, and then grunts as she tightens up on him, thrusting forward into his hand before grinding back on his dick.</p>
<p>“You were made for this,” he says, fucking her forward into his hand. She’s trembling in his arms, making these soft, needy sounds behind his hand and it’s like lava in his veins. God, he’s gonna ruin her. “I should be making sure you’re always wet and open for me, so that any time I want it I can just bend you over. Just sit you on my dick. Bet you’d like that, huh?”</p>
<p>She shakes her head again, but Munehisa's not fooled. He gives a breathless laugh, hips smacking against her ass, and groans out, “Maybe I’ll tie you to my bed too. Make sure I’m the only one that can use you.”</p>
<p>Ren-chan is still shaking her head when she locks up around him, letting loose a long moan muffled by his hand, and then comes hard into Munehisa’s hand.</p>
<p>“That’s it,” he says, mouth pressed to the nape of his neck. She feels so good around him, nice and tight and slick as anything, and he works her loose again with his thrusts. If he had the time and space he’d work her up again, but it’s a miracle that they haven’t already been caught so he’s not gonna push his luck. He works on chasing his own orgasm instead, tight hard thrusts, his dick hitting her deep, and one of her hands drops to his arm, fingers digging into the muscle, as she shakes through it. </p>
<p>He lets the feeling rise in him, and then he’s coming too, deep inside her, panting hard into her shoulder. They stand for a moment pressed together, their breathing together the only sound in the little cubicle, and Munehisa holds her close to trick his body into thinking that he doesn’t need to have her again right that moment.</p>
<p>The sound of the sales assistant’s “Please excuse me, is everything okay?” causes them both to jump. Ren-chan has to clear her throat twice before she can reply, but she manages some platitude that gets her to leave again.</p>
<p>Once the sound of her heels has faded away, Munehisa slides out of Ren-chan, already mourning the loss. They’re a mess, and unless he does something they’re gonna <em>leave</em> a mess. Some of her come has already managed to escape his hand; any more will give them away faster than the lurid mark he’s left on Ren-chan’s neck. </p>
<p>He searches for something to clean up with and spies the toy balanced on the shopping bags. “Hold onto this for me,” he says, wicked anticipation hot in the pit of his stomach, and before she can question him he has it in hand and is easing it back in with a slick, wet sound, plugging his come up nicely inside her. She pants and presses her head to the wall but doesn’t move away, letting out a pained “Fuck,” once it's all the way in.</p>
<p>“Munehisa,” she says, less the warning she was going for and more a plea, making a hurt, wounded noise as she shifts and the toys shifts too — the way she does when she’s desperate, when he’s been teasing her and she needs it, the way she does right before she shoves him down and takes his dick for herself. With her lipstick all smudged across her face and her clothing all dishevelled, she looks like she’s been <em>mauled</em> and Munehisa inhales sharply, reaching— but after a moment she pulls up her panties with shaking hands and resettles her clothes.</p>
<p>Munehisa takes a step back, patting down his pockets until he unearths a crumpled napkin to clean the come and the lipstick off his hands, and then he occupies himself with resettling his own clothes because if he touches her, or looks at her, or merely gets a whiff of the scent of her perfume they’re going to start all over again.</p>
<p>When they’re ready she twitches the curtain a little, checking, and then waves him outside. Munehisa resumes his seat by the cubicle with the shopping bags, body still humming. Under the bright lights of the store he can see the faint shine on the corner of one bag from where he’d set the— </p>
<p>Munehisa takes a deep breath and hunts through his pockets for another lollipop. </p>
<p>Ren-chan steps out seconds later with an armful of clothing. Her makeup is impeccable again even if she’s not: hair in disarray and a wild look to her eyes.</p>
<p>“Done?” he asks, amused, knowing very well there’s no way she’s had a chance to try on all those clothes.</p>
<p>Ren-chan takes in a shaky breath, marshalling herself until she looks less like she’s begging for a fuck, and says, “You know, I think that’s enough shopping for today.”</p>
<p>“Yeah?” he asks, rolling the lollipop in his mouth.</p>
<p>“Mm,” she says, and something about the way she says it, the tone in her voice, leaves him feeling like he’s the one being hunted now. “I’m more interested in seeing how well you hold up in other things.”</p>
<p>“Alright,” he says, getting up, “but go easy on me; I am an old man after all.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. steal into my mouth</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>this side story is for a gift exchange on twitter with <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/serendicity/pseuds/serendicity">serendicity</a> (@<a href="https://twitter.com/feminamachina">feminamachina</a> on twitter)!! she asked for a PWP and mirror sex and u know what?? i think i nailed it</p><p>hope you enjoy ava!!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>If ever Iwai starts wondering why he’s wasting his days as a mere lieutenant in the Hashiba, he just has to attend one of these fucking meets and all his questions are answered. They don’t happen that often, maybe a couple of times a year, but just once is more than enough for him so he shudders to think how many more he’d have to suffer through if he were any more important. This time it’s some up-and-comer looking to make a statement, or maybe a newly crowned heir looking to strengthen connections—Munehisa wasn’t paying much attention when <em>kumicho</em> gave the order—but it means this meet is taking place in some swanky mansion out in Hiroo, and Munehisa is dressed like he wouldn’t know a good time if it came up and beat the shit out of him.</p><p>The tie had never been an option, but even with the top couple of buttons undone Munehisa still feels like he’s being suffocated, perfectly tailored suit wrapped around him like a straitjacket. The only good part of his outfit are the guns sitting comfortably in his holsters, and Akira hanging comfortably on his arm.</p><p>His consolation prize, or maybe just his pacifier. Munehisa wonders what it says about him that he can be placated so easily, but mostly he just knows how to quit when he’s ahead. Either way, it means that when Munehisa arrives with the other Hashiba clan members, he does so with Akira, and that makes the long hours looming before him like an endless stretch of road seem more tenable. Akira’s dressed up too, sharp, dark suit tailored to him perfectly, but his clothes seem to settle on him easily, worn like he was made to wear them. Then again, Akira exists in every situation like he’s been made for it.</p><p>He’s currently talking to one of the other lieutenants, giving him advice on dealing with his moody teenager or something, and Munehisa must have some truly stupid expression on his face because <em>kumicho</em> isn’t even attempting to hide the way he’s laughing at him. It lasts right up until they’re inside, and then there’s a lot of greetings and introductions, and then there’s a lot of posturing and double-speak. It’s the same song and dance as always, but Munehisa’s attention doesn’t drift like it usually does. Maybe it’s to do with the face Akira pulls when the lieutenant from the Yamaguchi-gumi speaks, or the way he catches Munehisa’s eyes as they move on from conversation with the heir to the Kanada clan, trying not to laugh. Maybe it’s just Akira, who keeps Munehisa’s frustration levels to a minimum just by existing. Maybe this is what people have been trying to tell him for years about relationships. If it is, he’ll never admit it.</p><p>Of course, Akira is popular, but mostly for all of the wrong reasons. He’s been introduced as a guest of the Hashiba, but that just means that people see his age and <em>assume</em> things. They seem to think they can exchange sex or bribes or threats for favours, and Munehisa knows he’s not being particularly subtle when he rests a proprietary hand on his lower back. The look Akira shoots him certainly seems to say so.</p><p>But Akira always fits so nicely against him, whether that’s by accident or design. Something in the way he holds his body maybe that seems to signal to everyone else just where he belongs. Doesn’t stop Munehisa from wanting to stake his claim anyway, especially as conversation slowly pulls them apart. If there’s one universal truth he wants everyone to understand it’s that, but then again that’s not anything new. Akira’s got that look in his eyes, that quirk to his smile that says that he’s hunting, talking rings around them like a cat playing with its food. Manoeuvring them—which is probably why <em>kumicho</em> was all too happy for Munehisa to bring him along—with an ease that always gets Munehisa hot, and the way Akira’s trousers make his legs look like they go on for days makes him even hotter. And if he can see all that then so can everyone else, and Munehisa’s not known for playing well with others. </p><p>Like he can read Munehisa’s thoughts, Akira shoots him a look from under his lashes, halfway across the room from him, body angled in one long invitation, and Munehisa wonders if maybe Akira is manoeuvring him as well. Munehisa bites down on a smile and returns to his own conversation; if he is… well, it’s not like he’s being manoeuvred anywhere he doesn’t want to be.</p><p>And so it goes for the next hour or so. He and Akira part, come together, and part again, like two planets orbiting each other, but even when Akira’s talking to other people or when he wanders off alone for a drink or a snack they’re tethered together, Munehisa’s eyes seeking out and finding him in an instant no matter where he is. It’s why he knows to look up just as Akira disappears out the room and down one of the side corridors, two members of the Hashiya-kai either side of him. Munehisa makes his excuses and slips away after them, only the sharp signal of <em>kumicho</em>’s hand bringing the brewing violence back down to a simmer.</p><p>There’s one posted just at the exit that tries to stop him from leaving, but he doesn’t last very long, and once he’s past him he doesn’t need to go far to find them. Then again, it doesn’t look as though they’re doing much to hide. They have Akira cornered, two of them, and over a shoulder he can see Akira turn wide, innocent eyes on them. He probably has it handled, but Munehisa can’t have anyone thinking the Hashiba will stand for this kind of disrespect, and more importantly, Munehisa can’t have anyone thinking that they can get away with messing with his things. </p><p>The only sign that Akira sees him as he comes up behind them is the slight widening of his eyes, and Munehisa would smile—pleased, proud—at that if he wasn’t so volcanically angry. He might have been the dumbass who got Akira involved in all this Yakuza shit, but that just means he’s gotta step up and be the kind of person Akira seems to think he is, and that means taking care of any potential threats with prejudice. He doesn’t actually know if they’re threatening him or hitting on him but in the end it doesn’t matter. Instead, he considers them for half a second, and then silently pulls his gun and cocks it at the back of one of their heads.</p><p>“Now,” he says, as the one at the end of his gun freezes, “what are two members of the Hashiya-kai doing with an honoured guest of the Hashiba?”</p><p>The first one slowly raises his hands in surrender, but second one whips around, angry, only to suddenly freeze too, either because he saw the gun or because he saw who was at the other end of it. Behind them, Akira’s doe-like expression melts away, and there’s something smug, something <em>pleased</em>, in what’s left behind that sets Munehisa alight. </p><p>He refocuses with some effort, wondering if it’s worth making an example of them, but then ultimately decides that he has much more important things to attend to. Maybe <em>this</em> is the true power of relationships. “This is a warning,” he says, voice low, dark. “If there’s a next time I won’t fucking bother with one.”</p><p>He taps the barrel of his gun against the back of head in front of him in emphasis and the other one nods, wide-eyed. The one at the end of his gun doesn’t move an inch until Munehisa finally pulls it away and says, “Now, fuck off.”</p><p>And they go, both of them lurching into movement without even a backwards glance at Akira, and Munehisa watches until they disappear around the corner before stowing his gun. When he turns back, Akira is already raising his hands, saying, "It's okay, Munehisa, you didn't have to—" but he doesn't get very far before Munehisa backs him into the wall to take the kiss he's been wanting for the entire night.</p><p>Akira makes a high pitched noise into the kiss, mouth falling open for his tongue, hands dropping to clench into the back of his jacket, and Munehisa can finally slide his hands over the curve of his ass, press their hips together so he can feel Akira move against him.</p><p>“Did they touch you?” he asks against his mouth, breathed out between kisses. The anger in him flows mud-thick through his veins, slow to settle, and now with Akira in his arms, responsive under his hands, hot mouth offered up easily, it’s all mixing together and turning into something a lot uglier.</p><p>“No,” Akira says and it sounds like a moan. He offers up his neck, panting, head thrown back, and Munehisa takes it, biting out a mark just above what his collar would hide. “I knew you’d follow; I could feel your eyes on me the whole time.”</p><p>“Yeah?” He’s barely aware of the words coming out of his mouth now, well aware of where they’re both headed. It’s undoubtedly true that Munehisa is a bad influence on Akira, but it’s also true that it goes both ways. They… spiral, wants and needs lining up so perfectly that they run each other to ruin. Match made in heaven. “Is that why you’ve been teasing me all night?”</p><p>Akira blinks up at him, coyness and innocence intertwined in a way he knows is fake. “Is that what I’ve been doing? Did you want something, Munehisa?” he says, lapping at his bottom lip cat-quick. “You should take it.”</p><p>Munehisa curses and drags Akira away from the wall and down the hallway, following signs until they come across the guest bathroom. It’s empty, which is good because Munehisa isn’t really patient at the best of times, and spacious, which is even better. Munehisa locks the door behind them, and then they’re kissing again, Akira fitting himself right back where he was before.</p><p>There’s a different quality to their kisses now. Akira bites at his mouth, clinging, desperate, as though trying to wind him closer and closer, and Munehisa falls into him, into a mouth that gives so easily under his, molten hot. Akira tugs at him until Munehisa slides his hands down and lifts him, setting him on the counter and stepping between his thighs, thrumming with satisfaction when Akira wraps his legs around his waist.</p><p>He’s hard, Munehisa can feel it, but Munehisa is too, a familiar ache rising—his wants, Akira’s needs, they’re all one and the same—pushing for more, hungry and greedy. Akira’s legs pull him, rocking their hips together seeking relief, and his hands push at his jacket, scratch over his shoulders, his chest, searching. </p><p>“Good boy,” Munehisa says, mindless, as Akira moves against him, and swallows down the needy noises Akira makes in response. He tugs free Akira’s shirt from his trousers and slips his hand under it, over the tense muscles of his stomach to play his with chest, tease his nipples, resisting the urge to just tear him free from his clothes in a spill of cloth and buttons.</p><p>Akira squirms, shudders, and then says, “Love you like this.” With Munehisa’s hand on his chest and his other encouraging the way Akira is grinding against him, his kisses become sloppy until he’s just panting and moaning against Munehisa’s mouth. “Earlier,” he continues, arching his chest into Munehisa’s hand, “with those two men, seeing you like that was…”</p><p>He trails off into a shudder, as though reliving the moment, and Munehisa, hungry for whatever it is he’s seeing, says, “Yeah?”</p><p>“You—” Akira begins, and then he looses a breathless moan into Munehisa’s mouth, eyes slipping shut, and they lose time like that for a moment, kissing in the simulation of fucking, winding tighter and tighter.</p><p>“Maybe,” Akira breathes a while later, sucking desperate kisses along Munehisa’s jaw, “maybe if I’m bad enough you’ll make that face more often.”</p><p>Wants and needs and perfect ruination. Munehisa drags him back up by his hair and crushes his mouth to Akira’s, his words unravelling him the rest of the way. That muddy, ugly feeling from before boils inside him and knows that this—sitting and touching and hot wet kisses—won’t be enough.</p><p>“Down,” he says, untangling them enough that Akira can slide to the floor in front of him, and he does, slowly, smile smug and satisfied. He goes easily when Munehisa turns him around, arching his back as Munehisa fumbles with his belt and zipper and then pushes his clothes down to his thighs. Akira shivers in his arms—cold, anticipation, either way he likes the way it feels—and Munehisa drops a hand to his own waistband, undoing his trousers so he can pull out his cock, line it up along the crack of Akira’s ass, and then thrust against him.</p><p>Akira lets out a shocked noise, and then again, louder, when Munehisa reaches around to palm his dick. It’s slick, Akira’s pre already enough to ease the way, and with Akira caught like this, Munehisa rocks him back and forth, between his cock and his hand, while Akira gets wetter and wetter. It’s not even remotely close to what he wants to be doing, but it’ll have to be enough for now, until they can return home and Munehisa can sit him on his dick and fuck him until he passes out.</p><p>The friction is good, but Akira feels is even better, needy body turning into his touch. He was Akira’s first, he’s pretty sure, and they’re a long way from that now but every time they touch it’s like that, Akira sensitive and primed for it. Munehisa drops his mouth to Akira’s nape, to his throat, searching out the mark he left before, worrying it until Akira cries out, fresh pre wetting his hand, and then leans back to judge his handiwork.</p><p>It’s only now, as Akira is digging nails into his arm, his panting a loud counterpoint to the slick sound of Munehisa’s hand, that he notices the mirror in front of them, large enough for him to see the entire bathroom in reflection. He can certainly see the way Akira is squirming in his arms, eyes squeezed shut, teeth sunk into his bottom lip and… </p><p>And he knows all about the dumb faces people make during sex, never wanted to go out of his way to see them, never thought they were particularly… well, never really thought anything much about them, but like this, like he’s caught in some kind of feedback loop, amplified, Akira looks rapturous. Ecstasy so bright it hurts. He can see how Akira’s small frame looks tucked beneath him, see the flash of his pretty dick as Munehisa works him, see how he licks his lip or how he breaks on calling Munehisa’s name and it’s—</p><p>There’s a greed, building inside him like an avalanche, that wants to see everything like this, wants to see Akira on display for him like this, wants Akira to look up and see how much he was made for Munehisa. He straightens and pulls Akira up with him, and Akira follows easily, pliant in his arms. His cock slips, into the hot space under the curve of Akira’s ass, and… there’s an idea. He tugs some more, and Akira stretches up onto his tiptoes, taut, as Munehisa’s arm winds like a band tight around his waist. His cock slips down further to nestle between Akira’s thighs, and like a reflex those thighs squeeze tight around him almost automatically. It sends lightning up his spine, and as Munehisa looks at them in the mirror, at Akira’s open-mouthed panting, at his red cock leaking all over Munehisa’s fist, at the lewd sight of Akira’s trembling thighs tight around his cock, heat twists in the pit of his stomach.</p><p>“Look,” he says, voice unrecognisable, “watch.” And as Akira’s eyes slit open, Munehisa draws back and curses as he thrusts into the tight funnel of his thighs, driving Akira forward into his hand, and Akira lets out the filthiest sound, both hands gripping tight onto the arm he has wrapped around his waist, sounding just like he does when Munehisa pulls his hips back and sinks balls deep into him.</p><p>“Munehisa,” Akira says, and then groans as Munehisa thrusts him into his hand again, the head of Munehisa’s cock nudging at his balls, rubbing over the sensitive skin.</p><p>“God, look at how wet you are,” Munehisa says, eyes drinking in the sight of them in the mirror moving together. “You’ll take a dick any way you can, won’t you?”</p><p>Akira shakes his head— thrashes it, head thrown back as he writhes on Munehisa’s cock, before obediently returning his gaze to the mirror before them. “Just you,” he says breathlessly, restlessly, hips shifting minutely into Munehisa’s thrusts. “Only you can make me—”</p><p>“That’s right,” he says, twisting his hand the way he knows Akira likes as though to emphasise his point. The shiny head of Akira’s cock glistens in the low light of the bathroom, and in the mirror Munehisa can see how pre wells up uncontrollably to spill down the back of his fist and onto his balls, onto Munehisa’s own cock, dotted across his tense thighs. “All mine,” he says, and then, “lift up your shirt,” because he knows Akira is getting close, can practically taste it. “Good boy. Can’t have everyone knowing how much of a slut you are.”</p><p>Akira curses, tugging up his shirt, and just manages, “Munehisa, you’re so—” before he’s coming, thick spurts all over the counter and floor, Munehisa’s hand absolutely covered in it. Munehisa doesn’t stop though, hand stroking over Akira’s cock, rocking his body back and forth on his cock, until Akira starts twitching towards and away from it, oversensitive. “Nn—” he starts but never quite completes, twisting in Munehisa’s arms, but he takes it so nicely anyway. Wants and needs again.</p><p>He mouths over the nape of Akira’s neck, breathing hard, air too hot and too thin. Akira hardens in his hand and it feels like Munehisa gets harder too, like his cock isn’t already one dense ache, like he isn’t already on a knife’s edge. Greed continues to build inside him; there’s more of Akira than he can ever take but it’s not gonna stop him from trying to devour all of him anyway. And with Akira still holding up his shirt, material crumpled in his grip like he’s forgotten all about it, Munehisa has a nice, unobstructed view from the top of his thighs where he’s pressed around his cock up to his chest and the flash of his nipples with each thrust. He wants to get his mouth on him. Wants his cock in his mouth, wants to trail kisses up his stomach, wants to suck on his nipples until they’re red and sore so much that it makes him groan.</p><p>Instead he says, “Tighten up,” thrusting harder now, the way slicked by Akira’s own come, and Akira does so, pants sounding like a sob. His head lolls back like he’s lost the strength, eyes threaten to close, so Munehisa says, “Look,” voice a rumble in his chest and Akira does with a gasp, so obedient in a way he usually isn’t. And with his hand tunnelling Akira’s cock, the obscene way his own cock thrusts in between Akira’s thighs, rubbing them raw, is plain for them both to see. Munehisa curses, orgasm bubbling up inside him like a chain reaction, and then again as Akira squeezes tight on his next thrust in, enough to almost fool him into think he’s fucking a nice tight hole instead.</p><p>“Does it feel good?” Akira asks, and Munehisa nods, head spinning, all senses tuned into Akira, eyes fixed on the mirror in front of them. “I want it to,” Akira continues, voice hot and urgent, breathless and desperate. He’s restless in his arms, squirming without squirming, like even this isn’t enough for him, like he can only settle with Munehisa’s cock inside him. Wants and needs in perfect alignment. “I should— I should bring supplies with me next time so you can use me whenever you feel like it.”</p><p>The words flash star-bright in his mind, and Munehisa feels every muscle lock up tight as he comes, one endless moment as he spills all over Akira’s thighs. He loses a couple of seconds, world gone quiet, and comes to to Akira writhing in his arms, panting, saying, “Mune, Mune please I need it, I need you to—” He’s playing with himself, rubbing and tugging at his nipples like it’ll be enough to get him to come, and now it’s Munehisa’s turn to shudder, so unbelievably turned on by it. </p><p>It doesn’t take much anyway. Munehisa’s limbs feel slow, clumsy, but it’s only couple of strokes later that Akira is coming for the second time like it’s been wrenched from him, legs shaking and chest heaving, his come splattering all down the side of the counter to drip messy onto the floor. Akira sags in his arms like his legs have just given way, open-mouthed panting as he leans his weight into Munehisa, and Munehisa saves the sight of him trembling and weak and covered in come in his mind, sears it into his memories, before easing his weight over to rest against the sink.</p><p>Akira looks ruined, his entire body a road map of the ways Munehisa has marked him. He’s almost reluctant to tidy it all away but they’ve already been away from the others for too long and Munehisa can already hear <em>kumicho</em>’s lecture. He reaches for the basket of hand towels and starts cleaning them both up, paying special attention to Akira’s dick until Akira shoves him away with a laugh. Akira’s trousers are kind of… well, it’s not like Munehisa was thinking about aiming when he was coming so hard he blacked out for a bit, so they do what they can. At least most of the mess was on the inside.</p><p>“Only child,” Akira teases once he’s gotten his breath back, stealing a kiss as Munehisa fixes his collar and straightens his tie. “What would you have done if they <em>had</em> touched me?”</p><p>Munehisa doesn’t even dignify that with a response because it’s a dumb question and Akira knows it. Akira looks at him for a second, smoothing his hands over the lapels of Munehisa’s jacket, and then smiles slowly, full of trouble. He steps away after one more kiss, and then unlocks the bathroom door and steps outside. “Maybe we can save that for next time, hm?”</p><p>Munehisa freezes, staring after him for a long second, and then huffs out a laugh and follows Akira back out into the hallway.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>and here’s the porn bc I can’t help being who I am</p><p>this solely exists because my friend read <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26405752">as my heart bursts in the night (hold my hand)</a> and was like okay but where’s the part where they fuck and he’s in the dress</p><p>do I think it’s possible to fuck in the changing rooms in a shop in 109 and not get caught? absolutely not. do I care? a b s o l u t e l y not</p></blockquote></div></div>
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